Give Them a Show
by MessengerOfDreams
Summary: Bowser prepares for his latest final fight. Things are always in his control, as much as they can be. He's got a lot to fight for, but the fight is simpler than you think. AU. Humanoid. Rated T for pervasive language and mild sex/violence references.


**I've always had a deep alternate take on the Bowser universe and thought I'd just give you a taste. Getting into character's always fun. Hope you enjoy.**

 **This pushes the rated T limit; there's some mentions of violence and mild sex references as well as a fuckton of bad language. You've been warned.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing, regret nothing, and let them forget nothing.**

Today's the day. I just know it. It's instinct, it always is. Instinct, and a damn good plan. Mario's the kind of bastard you can set your watch to. Give him an open room and take the pacifier away, and the baby will start crying. He'll start looking for things to do. Start causing chaos. Never knowing it's controlled chaos. And right now, I just know it. I know that the Mushroom Kingdom's bawling and hiding in fear that their dear beloved princess is gone again. All I can say is that I thank God that his particular plan let us seal the bitch in that wretched self-portrait atop her castle. Last thing I want to hear is her petulant attempts to appear strong- the you'll-never-get-away-with-this song and dance.

Like I don't know that already. I bet she still wonders why I laugh when she says that.

I finally force myself up from the bed, my face desperate to cling to the pillow, just stay here and pretend nothing's going on. It's been awhile since a lazy day. Like, a genuine fuck-it-let's-stay-indoors-and-watch-movies-with-the-kids type of day. Especially now that the latest strategy is in play, and it's almost at an end. I throw the covers off and stretch, yawning loudly.

"Thanks, doll."

Oh, shit. I nearly forgot, my mind's already been racing like a motherfucker. June's here, hair still in a ponytail as she moves my side of the blanket off of her face. I blurt an apology as she leans up, eyes open, brisk as a spring rain, whatever the fuck those are in la la land. She hunches on her shoulders and eyes her uniform hanging from the closet doors.

"You know you could have put those in the closet," I remind her, checking the time on the clock to the side. "It's not like I'm lacking room."

"Far be it from me to start invading your stockade of spikes and leather," she replies coolly, throwing her side of the blanket back at me, leaning against me in a casually sweet sort of way. Fuck, that's comfortable. Her skin against mine, the extra blanket promising us safety; there's just so much desire to be human for awhile that nearly puts me back in bed. But some luxuries have to be earned.

She knows, too, just judging by the look on my face. "Looks like today's the day, ain't it?"

I nod, groaning. "Sorry, babe. Breakfast in bed's gonna have to wait."

She slaps my chest, red nails teasing to dig in. "No apologies, Bow-wow," she reminds me. The pet name has not once been anything but derisive and ironically charming. "Do what you gotta do."

I nod again, finding strength in her words, and finally leaving the bed. My naked ass is on full display as I make my way to the closet. She wolf-whistles as I pass her view. "Don't get too revved up," I tease. _Or I'm never gonna leave you,_ I mean.

"I'll stay in bed until you're out," she promises, "or we're both not going anywhere." _Because I'd personally prefer you didn't leave and we could pretend to be safe,_ you mean.

My laugh echoes off the closet at the idea. Juvenile lust is our form of communication, the wall that keeps us from getting too close. I doubt anyone's gonna bitch at us hitting the sack- instilling trust in your people is a surefire way to earn that luxury- but the idea of having anyone in a serious way seems like I'm asking Kuga for way too much, especially with the captain of the Bro Mamma guard. There's only so far you can get at times like these, and for us that's playful sex and sardonic humor.

I clear my mind as I find my clothes. I don't need anything particularly special. I don't need physical armor; that's all taken care of. This is just a matter of style. I throw on a pair of boxers and socks, then find a thick pair of pants, one that can withstand a lot of shit. I find a brown shirt and a green leather jacket, throwing them on haphazardly. The combat boots are next, reaching up to my knee. After that, I adorn myself with every spiky object I can find- neckpiece, bracelets, cuffs, anything that can backhand bastard plumbers and leave a mark.

I look in the mirror and decide I look fuckin' epic. The full King Bowser regalia is on today. Keep your jewel staff, I'll take a sawed-off shotgun. Fuck your capes, I'm donning leather. I don't need a ring for you to kiss, I've got an armful of spikes that'd love to get a piece of your action.

I almost convince myself I'm as badass as I look before I leave the closet.

She's still there, ponytail undone, black hair covering her in a way that looks straight out of the dawn of man. She's untangling it, probably because she hasn't loosened the ponytail in a week, in or out of the shower. Habits, we both know them. I walk past her, trying to perfect that cocky I'll-throw-your-head-off-and-fuck-your-bitch strut, as if I mean it. She finally looks up and moves to pull the blanket over herself, as if now's the time for modesty.

"Yo," I blurt, forcing a smile.

"Can I help you?" she asks, dropping the blanket, returning the forced smile only warriors like us know.

There's a lot I wanna say. _No, you don't need to help me. Well, outside of the leading the guard shit. And taking care of the kids without reminding me they can take care of themselves just because I need to know someone will. If I had my way I'd help you into all that finest-robes-precious-jewelry shit, even if I barely have enough of my inheritance left from the war of my fathers to get you more than chain store jewelry and a gift certificate to a village tailor. And I'd probably tell you I loved you without worrying about Kuga getting a sick sense of humor and shooting me with lightning like I said I was two goddamn days from retirement._

But I can't say any of that because it makes me want to start crying so I say "good luck, June."

She nods, saluting in a way that's only quasi-playful. I chuckle to myself, trying to push that nagging idea that this is the last time I'm going to see such a fucking gorgeous representative of the Koopa Kingdom to the back of my head, as I set out to continue the plan to make sure all of the Koopa Kingdom isn't wiped out.

~MoD~

The coffee tastes colder than usual, so I throw it in the microwave. Half the crowd is gone from this storm-tattered borderline haunted house that is King Bowser's marvelous castle. If there's one credit I give the kingdom's video games is that despite the propaganda angle, they fucking NAIL my style. If I had a castle like that rather than this old bundle of dead trees and rocks, I wouldn't need to fight those fungifuckers the way I do. But instead, I'm here, microwaving my cold coffee while three of my kids either read newspapers or fuck around in notebooks, reading today's atrocities or writing tomorrow's casualties.

Long live the fucking king.

Absently, Wendy toys with a giant ring that's around her hand. She whispers a charm and it glows purple, buzzing around her right into her skin. She winces, but she's already told me that she's gotten used to the pain, as if my daughter training herself to withstand pain isn't the part that scares the shit out of me. She's finished her coffee, but Lemmy's still downing his, looking on the brink of tears. Clearly he knows, just looking at me, and how I'm resigned to being fucked up and possibly being sent home in a body bag. Kid's a natural empath in an environment full of people perfecting their poker faces, which is more dangerous than even the sharpest soldier if you ask me. Not that he's much better at hiding his own emotions. He keeps trying not to look at me, trying to pretend everything's fine, but he's fourteen. Nowhere near as cool as he thinks he is.

It's Junior who looks the most prepared. He finishes his coffee, stealing glances at his old man. The kid knows he's a lucky bastard; he's the only kid who didn't lose his birth parents, but if I don't play it right he's gonna join the other seven of Bowser's great troupe of adopted war refugees in being down both parental units. He knows this, too, because he looks like he's about to jump off his seat and bounce off the walls. He's excited, but in a cautious sort of way. He's the one who breaks the silence as the microwave goes off.

"So," he starts, that crackly pre-teen voice rough enough to wear down sandpaper. "Ready to kick ass today, Pops?"

I don't immediately respond as I grab my coffee, rehearsing my game face instead of my please-don't-make-me-fucking-cry face. I've got the devilish grin on my face by the time I'm back with the mug in hand, and Junior laughs, clapping his hands together. Wendy rolls her eyes, her twenty-one years making her think she's too mature for this shit, and Lemmy tries not to jump out of his skin.

"Shipping out?" Wendy asks casually, still toying with the ring, watching it change color with every effect. It burns her, and she winces again, but mutters a charm that reverses the burn, like she'd never gotten scarred at all. She hums, content. I realize I've been watching her for a half-minute without responding to her question when she clears her throat.

"Can I help you?"

"Shit," I mutter, facing her. She doesn't return the favor, but Lemmy's eyes are near to burning a hole through my skull. "Yeah, looks like today's a battle day." I drop the bomb, as if anyone's surprised. Wendy nods, letting go of the ring and leaning back. I force myself to make eye contact with Lemmy, who's already starting to cry, but trying his damndest to hold it back.

"S'all good," I reassure him, and myself by extension. "It's just another battle. I'll get roughed up and Kamek will fix me up. I'll be back by evening and we'll actually get some time off."

"Until next time," Lemmy finally whispers, preparing to leave with a piece of my heart. Wendy sighs, but lets him go, not willing to deal with him.

Junior's the one who calls after him. "Aw, don't go, Lem!" he calls after him, but it's useless- Lemmy's green mohawk weaves out of the room like a sail through an ocean of confusion. Junior pouts, sulking into folded arms. "Lame," he hisses.

Wendy shrugs. "Whatever. He's just nervous."

"But why?" Junior asks, looking up. "It's gone right every time."

Wendy finally steals a glance at Junior, replying "You'd be an idiot not to be at least a little nervous, kid." Junior looks at me, trying to get me to rebuff her point, but all I can do is nod. He looks at the wall, trying not to look scared.

"Nothing's foolproof," I explain. "And I think we all know that by now. But we've got a good system going, guys. More than likely everything's gonna be fine."

"But if it's not?" Junior replies, trying not to start crying. Wendy closes her eyes and sighs, a different type of sigh. Pity, not frustration. A casually protective big sister sigh.

"Well..." What the fuck do I even say here? How do I tell my kid that there's a chance I die on him, like Wendy's parents, like Lemmy's parents, like Morton Jr's parents, like half the fucking children in this torn up inheritance? Just looking at him I think of all the comrades I lost in battle. Good people. Captains and soldiers alike. Brainiac poindexters in intel or battering rams on the frontlines, all of them going through hell to get the rest of us out of it before the devil knows we're trying to escape. I think of my closest circle of trust, most of them dead parents to children that can't afford to lose another father. I think of June, who swore she was never having kids even though she's kept guard on these kids enough to be a better mother than I am a father.

There's no words to describe what I'm feeling, but anything's better than sitting there like a dipshit who just got an off-switch flipped on them.

"Well... we keep going," I tell him. "Keep fighting. We're a unit. We can't stop because the loss of one. You're some strong-ass kids, man. And... you've got support. You always will."

"Okay," he says quietly, forcing a smile even though he clearly can't comprehend it. He speaks up, way too quickly and shakily. "I'm gonna go get my stuff. Lemme know if I can help."

"June'll be here," I explain, but he's already gone. I could tell he was looking for an excuse to leave and go cry for awhile. He probably got it from me. I face Wendy, my coffee long forgotten. "June'll be here if you need someone to defer to," I explain. "And I can trust you to help the kids out if you need it."

"Sure," she says. "I'll do my best, I guess." She toys with the ring one last time. It turns green, and covers her arm. A healing spell. She sighs, this time out of relaxation.

"You're getting good at that," I say.

"Thanks, Bow," she replies, turning as red as the bow on her head. Probably the closest I'll get to an affectionate moment with her. I watch her toy with the ring for a few more seconds before I feel something vibrate in my pocket. Oh, yeah. The phone.

"Is it time?" she asks.

"Probably," I sigh as dig it out of my jacket pocket, answering.

I'm greeted with "Your highness!" It's gotta be an intel guy. There's none of that sweet ambient noise of wartime- explosions, gunfire, the screams of the damned. Just clacking and background conversation.

"Yo," I reply coolly. "Ease up. What's going on?"

"Mario's storming through the sky fortress!" he says. "We can only hold him back for so long. He's looking for you."

"I know," I reply. "I'm getting ready. Just keep at it, I'll take over shortly."

"Yes, your majesty," he answers, clearly calmer. "Thank you."

"Don't sweat it," I tell him. "Good luck."

"You too, King Bowser."

I hang up and regard Wendy one last time. She doesn't return my gaze, trying not to care. "Don't get too fucked up," she says. "I just did my nails."

I smirk. "I'll see what I can do, nurse. Kamek will probably take care of it."

"Yeah, well..." she spins the ring again. "He knows where to find me."

I smile sadly at what Wendy's not saying aloud. _Just let me be useful._

"You got it," I promise, walking out. Every step I take, I feel a cooling sensation loosen my joints. This shit's better than coffee, whatever it is. I look back and Wendy avoids my gaze, but she's whispering some sort of charm. Kamek's taught her well, just as he taught me. I turn away, letting her finish her charm as I walk out, trying to think of returning home to them all instead of thinking about not returning at all.

~MoD~

The process is more familiar to me than my own skin.

"What's the arena?" Kamek asks next to me on the balcony, looking down at his notebook while I look across our nation. Right in front of us is the rest of the military base, while this house sticks out like a romance novel in a library of war stories. The plains are brown as dirt, but I can see the grass growing between the rough patches. The village outside the base is more bustling than ever- little dots of people moving around and interacting between brick and wooden houses. I could spend forever from here, just watching them interact. If this ever ends, I'm dedicating at least three hours a day to daydreaming out here, watching my nation grow, finally making something out of my inheritance.

"The arena, Master Bowser?"

Kamek insists with the whole Master Bowser shit. I don't mind it from the soldiers and citizens- it's sort of flattering- but from Kamek it feels wrong. I should be looking up to him, not him serving me. Still, I bite my tongue and respond. "Oh. Arena. Big circle platform just above the Wistra Fortress. Just like the Dark Forest and Fire Sea."

"He made it to the sky fortress?" Kamek asks, as if anything Mario does should be surprising. Goddamn supersoldier motherfuckers. I don't know what the fuck the MK does to people like him. I don't think I wanna.

"That he did," I reply coolly, envying the bastard. "So that's where we set up the mines. Just circle them around."

"Same strength?"

I think for a moment. I had seventy power stars lock up the transport to Wistra in Peach's top floor. I know there's one-twenty in the castle total, so I could just make this another battle and make the fucker sweat for the rest. Then I think of the kids inside of the castle. June, who's probably trying not to catch a catnap in an empty bed so she can distract herself with work to keep from thinking about things. Lemmy, who's trying to keep from having a nervous breakdown. Wendy, trying to keep a brave face while she thinks of healing spells to save me with. Junior, who doesn't really understand what's going on more than he understands the moral complexity of a weekend cartoon. I realize that I miss them, I miss having time to breathe, I miss just having two days of not worrying about the threat of the MK looming over us as they let Mario save the princess for them. In my head, I calculate how long it'd take for Peach to get her affairs in order to try and retaliate. However long it is, it's long enough.

The cycle will begin anew.

"Nah," I say. "Let's wrap this shit up."

Kamek nods, writing it down. "So a third of the strength?"

"Yeah. Anything to make him feel like we're done for now."

Kamek finishes writing that note. "So we should beef you up, too."

I smirk at the idea. "Yeah, that'd be bitchin'. I've already worked on my fire breath. I could roast a mushroom across the border from here."

Kamek slaps my leg. "Don't get too cocky," he reminds me.

"Just getting into character," I explain. Yeah, that sounds like something the Bowser Mario knows would say. Something hilariously cocky, buffoonish, the pride to go before the fall.

Kamek chuckles. "I'll trust you on that one. Just be careful to remember where the character ends and you begin." I laugh briefly and nod as he goes over his list. "Any modifications?"

I list a few off. "After a couple hits, start breaking off bits of the circle. When I jump, I'm gonna use the electric shocks. Non-lethal, obviously."

"Sadly," Kamek replies.

"Yeah, it'd be nice," I agree. "Just that now's not the time. We've still got a ways to go."

Kamek sighs, looking over the city with me. We sit there for a few seconds, taking the nation we have and trying to imagine it being just as advanced as the Kingdom that exiled us, just as strong, with appropriate living conditions. Where the sick don't get sicker, where everyone gets enough to eat, where I don't have to open up an orphanage just to keep what's left of my closest friends alive in some way. Where I'm not the only one who's been granted great living conditions at the cost of nearly killing myself to keep the kingdom at bay, wishing I could end it all and snap the bastard's neck and throw that bitch princess off a roof, just letting the MK come at me and do what they may so maybe we can all sleep a little better six feet under. I can't do that to everyone who put their faith in me.

But, good fuck, fantasies like that seem so tantalizing, and it's because it'd be the easiest fucking thing to do.

"Alright," he says. "Non-lethal. Buff you up. And we'll be here when you're done. I'll warp you out after the third strike and leave him the power star."

"Sounds great," I reply. "Then we can sleep in tomorrow."

"I personally would be more comforted watching the Mushroom Kingdom scramble," he admits, trying and failing to hide his smirk.

"Every victory deserves its spoils," I promise him.

"Even if the victory is a loss?"

"Especially then."

I feel my phone vibrate again. I don't even have to answer it, just hand it to Kamek. "It's time," I say. "Good luck. If anyone calls, you're in charge."

Kamek takes the buzzing phone into his hands. "Be careful, Eziki."

Eziki. That's a name I don't hear often enough anymore. I smile, crossing my arms, the spikes on my wrists gleaming in the sunrise. The sky looks goddamn near iridescent right now. It's a beautiful day for a battle.

"I'm ready, Abanatha."

I close my eyes and feel his magic overtake me. A few whispered charms later, I'm gone, standing on the platform in the sky.

It's chilly as frozen hell up here, nearly seeping through my leather jacket. I mutter a charm and spit a few sparks of fire out of my throat. The burn counteracts the chill, almost evening me out. I'm used to the pain, just like Wendy. It's numbed over time.

Everything's set up perfectly. The mines are spaced out, just waiting for me to hit it. The platform's got a star-shaped line in the center, ready to withstand the rest. I mutter another charm, and the armor unfolds over the leather jacket, covering it in even more spikes. I run my hand across it, and it draws a drop of blood from my finger. Perfect. Gorgeous. Just needs one more touch.

I mutter a final charm, and through the air I hear a powerful, foreboding organ. Perfect. Mario's gonna win this battle, but not without a few wounds himself- psychological, physical, any scratch I can claw from him without killing him, I'm gonna dish it. Maybe with enough I'll give him a fraction of what his lady love did to me and my people.

Like I said, it's style points.

A pipe opens up in the middle, and Mario leaps out in front of me, standing silently, poised to battle. The unwitting propaganda machine looks as adorable as ever- perfectly quirky mustache, red emblem hat and overalls just like he wears on the cover of every video game, TV show, live speech, comic, and every other form of media you can find the Mushroom Kingdom hero on.

God, I can't wait to pull a few whiskers from that bastard's mustache.

I begin to speak. I've rehearsed these lines forever. I know what he wants out of me. He wants the face of evil. He wants someone to hate. He wants things just as black and white as Junior does. As long as he never knows how the world works, he's the strongest pawn in my plan I'll ever have.

"Mario!" I growl. "You again! Well, that's just fine." I smirk as the adrenaline takes over. "I've been looking for something to fry with my fire-breath!" I'm tempted to cough up a few sparks but decide to keep my voice clean.

Mario stares me down, still hopping in his fighter's stance.

"Your star power is useless against me!" I egg him on, even though it's just what he needs. "Your friends are all trapped in the walls!" They'll be free soon, even though they're forever trapped in this cycle. I decide to hit home with the lie I know will stab him. "And you'll never see your beloved princess again!"

I rattle off a perfect maniacal laugh as he growls and lunges at me. The battle is on, but neither side's moving anywhere. That's perfect. That's just what I want. We'll both go home to our women and make sweet love to them like we'll never touch them again. We'll find our family and treat them to something special to celebrate a hollow victory. We'll nurse our battle scars until we don the armor one more time. But it's okay. I know I'm winning. I bet these Mushroom Kingdom bastards think the same thing.

But for now, it's time to give them a show.


End file.
